


Will I burst Into Flames if you Smile at me?

by drowninglovers



Series: When there's Nothing Left to Burn [2]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Grantaire is sassy as fuck, I like my sentence enhancers, I promise there will be some kind of battle soon, M/M, how many Brick quotes can Ashley include in one chapter, idk why R is just blowing shit up in the middle of the night he has no priorities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 01:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowninglovers/pseuds/drowninglovers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a conversation</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will I burst Into Flames if you Smile at me?

**Author's Note:**

> Not exactly 100% happy with how I characterized Enjy but I'm never exactly 100% happy with how I finish anything.
> 
> Enjoy.

He tears through more and more rotting flesh with several hacks away at the head until blade meets bone and splits their skulls in two (or more) pieces. They launch themselves at him like undead snapping turtles and he ducks away but does not cover. Pulling a pin from a grenade he throws then runs far enough away from the impending explosion, he’s not fast but he’s at least faster than they are. The blast roars in his ears as zombies are rocketed sky high and blood rains down, scattering bone and muscles around him.

 

Chaos is everywhere. While his friends feign sleep in the café he runs through rubble and over still-twitching body parts. They’re not following him anymore, his lungs may implode from the exertion but, he’s not stupid enough to slow down. He’s so close to being safe (well, as safe as he can be) and dying now would be so pathetic he’d probably die again from embarrassment. Without bothering to check if the dumpster’s safe he clambers on top and launches himself at the rusty ladder of the fire escape. A few months ago he wouldn’t have been able to grab onto the handle, let alone climb up but, he’s beyond questioning anything at this point.

 

When he finally makes his way up the stairs and rungs he collapses against the metal frame, releasing the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He uses his beanie to wipe the sweat from his brow and neck but leaves the bloodstains lingering on his machete.

 

His boots are splattered with soot and blood, the leather is beginning to break down and the laces are ripped. It’s a pity, he rather likes these boots. He likes them more than he likes this new lifestyle.

 

In a sci-fi novel he would be a hero who leads his fellow humans in an uprising to take the earth back from the hordes of shambling undead monstrosities but those novels are bullshit. Heroes are always brave, noble and, breathtakingly handsome. He’s the furthest from that dogma; the only higher cause he cares about is keeping himself and the others alive. If Grantaire’s some sort of hero it’s only in the most terrible of ways. His glory comes from destroying the already dead; his battles are for his survival.

 

The sound of footsteps jerks him from his poetic musings as the window adjacent from him opens and a pair of feet, then legs, then a dirty red jacket, then finally a head come into view.

“Apollo!” Grantaire exclaims with maybe a smidge too much zeal as the man eases down next to him.

“I do wish you’d stop calling me that,” Enjolras’s voice is raspy as though he’d been smoking (which is ridiculous since he’s stated countless times before that he would die before damage his lungs and other vital organs).

 

“And I wish for a lifetime supply of absinthe but we can’t always get what he want,” he doesn’t get a response to this statement.

 

Enjolras stretches his legs out and looks over at the half moon, giving Grantaire the chance to give him an obligatory once over. Even though it’s mostly dark he can still make out three day’s worth of stubble, how red his lower lip is from being bitten, the dark circles underneath his eyes and, the small crescent-shaped scar behind his left ear. Even in the dark, on a rusty fire escape, in living hell, Enjolras is still beautiful. _Fuck._

Grantaire hasn’t painted or sketched since before all this happened but now he wants to capture his Apollo in every medium available. Etch him in charcoal (mark him up with smudgy fingers, grasping at sharp hipbones and pressing open-mouthed kisses along the curve of his jaw), paint him in vivid colours (seeing if any of his paints can match his intensity), graffiti his face on the side of every building in the city (so that everyone can see how beautiful he is).

 He’s not staring, ~~he’s totally staring.~~

 

“So, to what do I owe this visit? I know it’s not due to my brilliant company,”

 

Enjolras breathes out long and quiet before answering “How do you survive so well in this world?”

 

“Well slicing zombies into pieces is a great stress reliever, it’s doing wonders for my blood pressure,” Grantaire chuckles and lets his foot dangle precariously over the edge.

 

“Be serious,”

 

“I am wild,”

 

“Why do you keep acting like I owe you something? I owe you nothing. You would show up to meetings utterly drunk, distract the others, argue pointlessly and believe in nothing. If anything you owe me for even tolerating you,” Enjolras’s words are scathing but not hurtful, he spits them out with annoyance rather than disgust.

 

“I believe in you.” _Shit, that wasn’t intended to be said out loud_ “I believe in you, you bastard. Why else do you think I even showed up for all those meetings and listened to you rant about workers’ rights or the death penalty or some other issue that I don’t give a rats’ ass about?”

 

Enjolras looks from Grantaire, to below where zombies continue shambling around for more flesh, to the discarded machete near his feet, “don’t believe in humans, humans will fail. Ideas are what last,”

 

“But you’re not human, Apollo. In fact I’m surprised that I haven’t been smouldered into a pile of ash for just being in your presence like mortals normally do when they look at the divine. I mean unless the sunlight shines out of your ass I should have been smited a long time ago,” his cheeky smile is met with a scowl but that doesn’t faze him one bit. This reaction was expected, just because the circumstances have changed doesn’t mean that he’s finally going to be an accepted Pylades.

 

What was Grantaire expecting anyway, for Enjolras to be so ridiculously turned by his zombie-slaying prowess and fall, swooning, into his arms begging to be ravished?

 

……  _No comment_

The blonde clears his throat “you have kept us all alive so I guess that you are good for something.”

 

“Is this, a compliment?” Grantaire lets out a gasp and places a hand over his heart “oh I’m not worthy, great Enjolras. And I’ll have you know that I am good for a lot of things.”

 

This response is met with a slightly amused snort, though he hopes it was moreso directed at the first part of his statement, and a good-natured nudge.

 

“Okay Grantaire,” Enjolras claps a hand to the other mans’ shoulder as he gets up then wedges himself back through the window.

 

Grantaire gives a two-fingered salute to the glass before reclining back against the metal frame. It’s unnaturally quiet down below; he has to actually look down to make sure that there are still zombies shuffling around.

 

Maybe quiet’s a good thing if it means he can have a conversation with Enjolras that does not end with his throat getting ripped out.

**Author's Note:**

> There was this big internal struggle about making this sickeningly fluffy or sticking with mainly angsty unrequited Brick!canon. In the end I decided on mostly canon with cute moments. Sorry for no kisses or random hot sex (because we all know that a fire escape is the absolute best place for a quick fuck).
> 
> I promise, promise, promise that there will be more action and zombie-killing in upcoming chapters after I've researched more.
> 
> Thanks so much for all your views/kudos/comments/bookmarks they're all greatly appreciated. Feel free to follow me on tumblr (drowninglovers) or just talk to me I like human interaction.


End file.
